CHAPTER 7
794 Words
CHAPTER 7
Susannah watched the snow falling outside the window, disappointed that she wasn’t paying more attention to the preaching. Greg, unlike any other pastor who made his way through the doors of Orchard Grove Bible Church, didn’t believe that every sermon in advent season had to be about the birth of Jesus. Susannah wasn’t sure how the traditionalists would feel about a December series through the life of King David, but she had her suspicions.
Father God, protect and watch over Pastor Greg. Bless his ministry, and allow him to continue to lead this church with wisdom and discernment.
She’d learned years ago to intercede for her pastors regularly. Orchard Grove Bible Church couldn’t be the easiest of congregations to serve, especially for a young newlywed like him.
The soft flurry outside was turning into a full-fledged storm. The snow covered everything. The mud, the litter, even the tire tracks in the parking lot. Some folks complained about Orchard Grove’s lack of aesthetics, but Susannah had never lived anywhere else, rarely traveled, and lacked any reference point for comparison. She wondered what Massachusetts looked like. Strange to think that she and Scott had spent almost a year talking, and she didn’t even know about New England weather.
There she was distracted again. I’m so sorry, God. One day, I’m going to get him out of my mind. But I need your help.
It was times like these that she missed her mom the most poignantly. Christmas was less than two weeks away, but what kind of celebration would they have? She hadn’t shopped for any presents. She didn’t have the time, let alone the money. She’d been unemployed for the past four months, but she was too busy to miss her job at Winter Grove Assisted Living. Life was busier now than it’d ever been. She couldn’t remember how many days had passed since she’d taken her last shower.
Now that she was gone, Susannah developed an even greater appreciation for her mother and all the sacrifices she’d made for her family.
Sacrifices. There was a word Susannah wouldn’t miss if it disappeared from every dictionary in the English-speaking world.
Sacrifices. Because keeping your promises was more important than chasing fantasies.
Because serving contentedly where God’s called you was infinitely more satisfying than yearning to be somewhere else. Or so she was told.
Lord, I know you ask us to lay down our lives for others, but I feel like there’s nothing left for me to give. I’m so empty.
As parched as the Orchard Grove riverbed. She could still remember being a little girl, tossing pebbles into the rushing water. How many years had passed since the river dried up? Ten? Twelve?
And would it ever run again?
Pastor Greg was near the end of his sermon. She could tell because of the way the orchardists in the front rows began clearing their throats and checking their watches. The way the few children in the pews grew more and more fidgety. The way her own heavy heart reminded her it was time to go home.
That’s what she hated about herself the most, what she hoped God would change more than anything else.
Lord, I used to love being with my family. What’s happened to me?
She wished she knew. Had she taken her entire annual quota of love and poured it out on a stranger, a stranger who turned out to be nothing but a stumbling block?
Before she met Scott, she had never begrudged her family anything. Never complained. It was her mother who worried. Her mother who signed Susannah up for music lessons and dance classes and homeschool co-ops, all in the name of giving her as much of a normal childhood as possible. It took years for her mom to realize that Susannah more than anything wanted to be at home. It was part of her nature to love. Part of her ingrained, God-given personality to nurture those around her, to tend to those who needed her.
That’s why she was such a good fit for the Winter Grove Assisted Living Home. Changing bedpans, cleaning messes, helping the weak while still protecting their dignity. When in her life had Susannah not known instinctively that her job was to care for others?
Some people called it a gift of compassion. For Susannah, it came as simply and as easily as breathing.
Or at least it had.
That’s the irony, God. This is the future I’d always pictured for myself. It’s just that I didn’t expect it to come so soon.
Not before she’d had the chance to live her own life.
Not before she’d served God for twenty or thirty years on foreign soil.
Not before she’d fallen in love, gotten married, nurtured and cared for children of her own.
Susannah was living the life she’d always dreamed of.
The problem was she was living it three or four decades earlier than she’d originally planned.
- Writer
